Otter Quest

I

Dipping a beak below the surface of the water, the seagull gulped down a medium-sized cod. As the chill seeped into it's hollow bones, the bird flashed down again and was just barely able to catch another one. Keeping the flopping fish securely held in it's beak, the seagull trimmed his wings and headed to a deserted beach to the east.

A few minutes landed it beside a camaflouged cave. Tapping a rock with it's beak after two second pauses, the rock was shifted, and a paw beckoned from inside. Waddling inside, the seabird dropped the fish in a rush-woven basket near the entrance to the hidden cave.

The creature on the inside, who happened to be an otter, quickly peered outside on the pebble-strewn beach and replaced the large rock in it's former position.

Watching the gull settle into another larger rush basket, he inspected the meal that his companion had brought for him.

"Haharr matey! This's a fine slab o' fish ye brought poor ole me!"

Slinging the cod onto a small-legged table, the otter began to gut the fish. Within a minute he had gutted the fish, made a small fire, tossed some vegetables into a pot with the cut meat and began to clean the small table with a mixture of seawater, a bit of sand vegetation, and a large piece of scouring slate.

Since his seabird friend could not really talk back to him, the otter usually spoke to himself, which he proceeded to do so as he put away the cleaning supplies and stirred the concotion he was making.

"Hmm, this'll be a nice meal fer Skrikeweb and me. Ain't much better'n fish stew, 'cept 'otroot soup or skilly 'n' duff. Haharr. I amembers the days when me ole farther used ter make that fer me and brother Kovestream. The best thing ever to pass me lips. Ooh, now I've gone an' insulted me cookin' agin. Ah well, I ain't too good a cook anyway. What d'you think, matey?"

The seagull emitted a sound halfway between a skrike and a cry.

"Yer right there Skrikeweb! 'S just like ye said. Yer ole friend Piketail can barely keep the food 'e cooks in 'is own stummick!"

Being a hermit, though he was barely old enough to be considered an adult, Piketail (that being the otter's name) usually kept to himself, his only information from the outside world came from Skrikeweb, his faithful companion. The half-crazed otter always rambled on to his pet about the bits of his past that he could remember, which were very few after an unfortunate run-in with a band of vermin.

Keeping himself busy became harder and harder, as Piketail's curiousity for the world grew. It was strong enough to allow him a short peek outside every day, yet not strong enough to let him step out into the sunlight and swim in the nearby ocean.

It had all started to happen about a month ago, when he had had a very strange dream.

In the depths of his mind, a figure began to walk towards him. It was a mouse, or, at least that's what he thought it was. It carried a glittering sword, and was clad in polished armour, though it wore no helmet. The mouse creature was evidently a male, as Piketail soon realized when the mouse drew closer and began to speak.

"Piketail... your sister... you must find her..." The mouse vanished before his startled eyes, the fragments of speech he was able to store in his memory before they vanished like smoke on the wind.

Each day, as his seagull brought fish from outside, Piketail grew bolder. Enough to let the sunlight warm a paw for a short while, or his eyes to settle on the sea. At the sign of any other life, besides his seagull, the otter replaced himself in his hide-out for a whole day, not daring to look outside.

As a new day dawned, a month and a half after the message from the mouse warrior, Piketail took a deep breath and surveyed his small home, as if to remember them should something happen to him. Prying loose a fair-sized rock from the disguised entrance, his green eyes darted left and right with great suspicion. Seeing nothing, the otter dared to let out a slow, silent breath.

A lone crab scuttled by, and Piketail froze. If not for his incredible will-power, he would have never come out of his cave. Signalling Skrikeweb to stay inside the cave, the otter ventured outside for the first time since he had come to the deserted beach.

The sun was warming him up fast, but he didn't mind, as his cave got very cold sometimes. Smiling outwardly, Piketail knelt and scooped up a pawful of sand. He let it fall through his claws and was soon batting pebbles into the water with his rudder. Never knowing such a wonderful feeling, the otter whooped joyfully. Sniffing the concentrated salty air, rolling in the loose sand; Piketail was in his element.

Back in the cave, Skrikeweb watched his otter friend strangely, but dismissed it, as Piketail had not gone outside since he had met the seagull.

After a short while, Piketail returned to the cave, tears of merriment and happiness coursing down his rough features. Gathering up the small pot, the larger of the two woven baskets, and a beautifully made knife, Piketail tied his frugal possessions into a small blanket and thrust the knot through a long dark polished wood stick.

Skrikeweb had found it just above the tideline a good while back, and the otter had kept it ever since. The wood was not rotted or warped, it stayed strangely supple and dark.

"Come on Skrikeweb. I've finally willed meself to leave, an' I ain't stoppin' now that I've started."

Taking to the air, the gull followed the otter as he travelled along the beach. Knowing that Piketail wouldn't stop until he collapsed, his companion glided on the thermals created by the hot sand.

To be continued...


I've started up another story. So tell me what you think of it. I might not be able to update too frequently, due to the fact that I also have to write "Imaldu" but I'll try my best.